


Puggy Love

by ButterflyGhost



Category: due South
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, Get Fraser Naked, Get Fraser Wet, M/M, No Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-15
Updated: 2016-12-15
Packaged: 2018-09-08 16:20:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8851729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ButterflyGhost/pseuds/ButterflyGhost
Summary: In which Fraser gets cold, wet and confused, talks Chinese to his belly, drips on Ray's carpet, makes less sense than usual, but puts a smile on Ray's face anyway.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cathybites](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cathybites/gifts).



> So, this story went through many iterations, in one of which the puglets were in fact very cute dragons, rescued by Fraser from evil smugglers. The dragons remain cute and live in a hutch with the rest of my bunnies (which sounds like a recipe for disaster, but so far they're getting on happily enough and nobody has eaten anyone.)
> 
> Alas, the dragons didn't make it through the draft (I really wanted them to, since dragons were among my prompts) but I did manage to hit the following requests. Cute, minimal angst, happy fluff, Fraser and Ray first time kiss, happy ending.
> 
> Plus - Fraser gets wet and naked. What's what to like?
> 
> Happy Christmas, Cathy! May it be full of cuteness and squee.

 

Christmas sucked. Christmas always sucked – well, maybe not when he was a kid. Maybe even not in the early years of his marriage. But toward the end there – yeah, well. Not fun. Pushing forty, single, parents down South visiting his brother and kids. And what was Ray doing? Single, childless wonder that he was?

  
Here’s what he was doing; he was sulking because Fraser had stood him up. Fraser was late. Very late. And Fraser was never late for anything, never stood anyone up. So, Ray must really suck. He was going to have to reheat his sucky little Christmas dinner and eat it by himself in front of the television. And he’d let Fraser make an excuse, and he'd pretend his feelings weren’t hurt: ‘I’m so sorry, Ray, I had to miss Christmas for reasons which don’t need exploring at this juncture other than you suck.’ ‘That’s alright, Fraser. I know I suck. Don’t worry. It's not like it ruined Christmas for me at all.’

  
Would Fraser do that, though? Would he really duck out like that? It wasn’t very Canadian and polite of him. Maybe it was something else. What if was that beat down from Warfield’s goons? Maybe Fraser had gone back to his dingy little office, fallen asleep and died of a belated concussion or something.

  
Nah. Ray gritted his teeth and tried to reassure himself. Fraser was fine. Fraser was a force of nature; nothing kept him down. Ray knew what it was - Fraser just didn’t want to be ’round him.

  
“I suck,” Ray informed his turtle. The turtle, not surprisingly, said nothing. Ray sighed and looked at the clock. Yeah, Fraser was late. He'd established that. Like, Fraser was over an hour late. Would it look clingy to turn up at the Consulate and see what was up?

  
So what if it was clingy? He really should go check Fraser was alright. That was buddies, right?

  
He looked out the window. It had started to snow, and hard. The snow wouldn’t have stopped Fraser though. He was probably building himself an igloo – had to be better than where Fraser was living now.

  
Ray hunched his way out of his front door, shuffled through the snow and stared glumly at the Goat. Yeah, just like he thought. Buried under about a mile of the white stuff. He was pulling a long shift tomorrow as well and looked like he’d to have to walk into work. Or spend a week and a half digging his car out of the snow. Greatness. He hissed in a sharp breath and huffed out a cloud of condensation. Just his luck. And _wow,_ it was cold.

  
It must be cold because Fraser was shivering.

  
_Hang on._

  
Ray snapped his gaze up and looked across the road. Yeah, that thing he’d spotted out of the corner of his eye really was Fraser trudging along the opposite sidewalk, arms wrapped around his torso like he was in pain. Dief was loping alongside him whining. And Fraser really was.... Shivering?

 

Shit. Never mind it must be cold, it must be the goddamn _apocalypse._

  
“Hey, Frase,” Ray started jogging across the road, praying to the gods of the great white north that he wasn’t going to skid on black ice and end up flat on his back. “What’s up?” Besides Ragnor – Ragnee – that thing where a wolf eats the world because winter sucks. He gave Dief a suspicious look and a warning shake of his head – just in case. Dief was always hungry. Hungry like a wolf. It was just possible he really would eat the world if he thought it was a doughnut.

  
“Ah,” Fraser turned to Ray, smiling stiffly. Not only was Fraser still bruised and scabbed up from Warfield’s thugs, his lips were turning blue. “There you are.”

  
“Yeah,” Ray put his arm out and tugged Fraser to him. Holy crap. He was soaking wet. “What the hell happened? You’re freezing.”

  
“Well, it is winter, Ray.” Fraser sounded perfectly reasonable and even a little snippy – apart from the fact that his teeth were making clicky noises.

  
“Come inside. Jeez, Fraser, you’re a popsicle. Copsicle.”

  
“Oh,” Fraser blinked. “We’re at your place. That’s a coincidence. I was coming to see you.”

  
Okay. This was not good. Fraser was sounding vague and confused. Plus he was shivering, had blue lips and was hugging his abdomen like it hurt. Did you get delirious when you were cold?

  
“Come on in, and I’ll get you warm.” Ray winced. That sounded wrong. Fraser didn’t seem to notice, though. He was looking down at his belly and talking to his stomach for some reason, in what sounded like Chinese but might just as easily be Inuktitut or maybe even gobbledygook. Ray made a guess.

  
“Frase? Why are you speaking Chinese?”

  
“Well, my friends are Chinese after all.” He looked at Ray as though what he’d said made sense. “Only half Chinese actually, but Spanish is one of my weaker languages.”

  
“Your friends?” Oh shit. This was bad. Fraser must have frozen his brains into a block of ice or something. “Are they here now?”

  
Fraser rolled his eyes. “Obviously.”

  
“Obvious. Yeah.” Ray tried to ignore how worried that made him feel as he steered Fraser inside and up the stairs.

  
“Tha... tha... than... thank you....” Fraser managed, as he trudged up the stairs. He was shivering more now that he was in the warm. Was that normal? Hell, was anything about Fraser normal? Right now he was walking like an old man and dripping on the carpet. Ray followed closely behind, just on the off chance Fraser collapsed or something. Dief seemed to be thinking the same thing. Any other time he'd have bounded up ahead of them then lie panting by the door to the apartment until they got there. Now he was doing the ‘Lassie’ act, hugging close to Fraser’s side and whimpering, his tail wagging, but not in that ‘happy’ way. More of an ‘alpha sick, how do I fix him?’ anxious way. Yeah, Ray’d been watching Animal Planet. Plus, he knew Dief. Dief was worried sick.

  
“Just a few more steps, Benton Buddy.” Ray fumbled for his keys. “Did you fall in the lake or something?”

  
“N... n... no. J... j... jumped.”

  
“Jesus!” Ray nearly dropped the keys, turned 'round to glare at Fraser. His heart was hammering in his throat. He’d had bad Christmases and New Years, but he’d never pulled a stunt like that. And he never would have thought Fraser of all people would do a thing like that. “Don’t even think of it, Fraser. You try a thing like that again, I’ll kill you myself.”

  
Fraser just looked at him blankly, like he didn’t have a clue what Ray was talking about. “Well,” he said, cautiously, “the circumstances are hardly likely to replicate themselves.”

  
Oh. Maybe Ray had just made a gigantic ass of himself jumping to conclusions. Maybe Fraser hadn’t tried to....

  
“Okay.” Ray sighed and turned the key. “So. Tell me, Fraser.” He nudged him through the door, followed and shut it. “Why did you jump in the lake?”

  
“Ah.” Fraser pulled out another smile, and this time it looked like it came a little easier, like maybe his smile muscles were defrosting. “Well, it was the only way to stop my friends here from drowning.”

  
Fraser was talking about invisible friends again. Or had Ray misheard? Maybe Fraser had just said ‘friend.’

  
“Dief?” Ray looked dubious. “He doesn’t look like he nearly drowned.”

  
“Oh, no. Dief’s fine.”

  
Ray shook his head, frustrated. Fraser was making less sense than usual. “Glad to hear it,” he muttered, stomped into the bathroom and started running hot water. Fraser had no problem getting wet it seemed. Well, if he could jump in the lake he could dunk himself in Ray’s bathtub. Ray was too mad to even fantasise about Fraser in his bathtub – that’s how bad it was. Stupid Mountie. He’d made it so Ray couldn’t even fantasise about Fraser stripping out of his wet clothes....

  
Oh. Scratch that; he could. He shook his head again, trying to dislodge a picture of Fraser naked and shivering in his living room wanting Ray to hold him tight and warm him up and....

  
_I’m a horrible human being,_ Ray told himself. _I’m a horrible, horrible man._

  
He turned in the doorway, and there was Dief, staring at him accusingly as though he knew exactly what Ray had been thinking. “Don’t you start.” He jabbed two fingers at Dief and dropped the towels in the tub. Great. He fished them out and deposited them in the sink. “Thanks for that, Dief. He marched back out of the bathroom and grabbed a bunch of mainly clean towels from the laundry. They’d have to do. At least they were dry. What else did Ray need - dry clothes for Fraser. Damn. Well, when Fraser had finished defrosting in the bathtub, he was gonna have to make do with a threadbare purple robe from the Stella days. Nothing else that Ray had in the house would fit over that fine Canadian ass....

  
“What is _wrong_ with me?” Dief gave him a haughty look, as though he had some thoughts on the subject, but made no comment. Which was a sign of how not right Ray actually was. Because since when had he expected the wolf to actually make comments? Next thing he’d be hearing voices – Turtle-Wolf interspecies conversation. Probably complaining about how stupid humans were. ‘Mine drinks too much and dances by himself at midnight.’ ‘Oh yeah? Well, _mine_ jumps in lakes...’

  
Ray blinked. "Where did _that_ come from?" he asked aloud, then shook his head to clear it. Not that it did much good. “Okay,” he grumbled, ignoring Dief's scornful gaze. “Pull yourself together, Kowalski. Get a grip.”

  
“Frase,” he said. “Coming through. You might wanna cover yourself up with a couch cushion or something....”

  
He stepped into the living room and stopped talking. For some reason, he’d thought Fraser would have done the sane thing and gotten out of his ice-cold, soaking clothes. Instead, he was standing in the middle of the room, dripping. Clearly, Fraser was even more unhinged than Ray had realised.

  
Or maybe Ray was the one unhinged.

  
That was it. Drastic measures were called for. Ray threw the towels on the couch, grabbed Fraser by the shoulder to get his attention and started trying to peel him out of his layers. This was a lot harder than it had to be. Fraser did not want to be peeled. He froze (pun intended) and clutched his arms tighter around his stomach. Ray frowned. “Uh, Frase? Did you crack your ribs?” Fraser was staring down at his cable knit sweater, smiling blearily and muttering in Chinese. It almost looked like he was pregnant or something, doing that pregnant woman thing where they looked stoned and patted their belly. Or maybe that was just Frannie. Who hadn't told anyone yet, but Ray wasn't blind, even if he did have survival instincts and hadn't said a word about the probably immaculate conception. “Did you crack your head?”

  
“Hmmm? No.”

  
“Well, get your damn clothes off so I can get you in a nice hot bathtub before your nuts freeze off!” Yeah, that sounded wrong too, but by this stage, Ray didn’t care.

  
Fraser’s belly whined.

  
_What?_

  
“Uh.... what?” _Yeah, very intelligent, Ray. Real – what’s the word – articulated._

  
Fraser’s belly made that noise again, and Dief yipped. Ray stared at Fraser’s posture, definitely cradling something – then the penny dropped.

  
Either Fraser had a baby hiding under his sweater or....

  
The lump whined again. Dief stood up on his back legs, looking happier now that Fraser was in a warm room at least, and wagged his tail fiercely, scattering melted snow all over Ray’s furniture.

  
“Frase... do you have a dog in there?”

  
“Yes, Ray.” Fraser beamed. “Three in fact.”

  
_Uh...._

  
“And you fished them out of the lake?”

  
“Yes, Ray.” Fraser was still shivering, but a lot less blue.

  
“What were they doing in the lake?”

  
A flash of anger crossed Fraser’s face, and Ray flinched back before he realised that it wasn’t directed at him. “A rather unpleasant individual put them in a sack and threw them in. I was left with the choice to save the puppies or catch the perpetrator.”

  
“And you saved the puppies.” Ray grinned, so hard that his cheeks ached. That sort of thing was why he loved Fraser - not many people would leap into ice-cold water to save puppies. A warm, happy feeling started spreading through him that had nothing to do with central heating. He couldn't think of the words to explain that, though, so his voice came out a little gruff. “Go on then,” he jerked his chin at the hidden dogs. “Get them out and dry and warm.” That was the practical thing to do - but also, Ray really wanted to see them. He'd pestered his parents for a dog for years - pretended he believed in Santa 'til it was way past cool - just so he could write emotional letters begging for a puppy for Christmas. His Dad saw right through him, of course. But who'd have thought Ray's old Christmas wishes would come true thirty years later? Because okay, Fraser wasn't Santa Claus, but he came from the North Pole, and he had brought him puppies for Christmas. _I mean - I'm gonna keep 'em. He can come around and play with us, but I'm keeping 'em...._ Ray blushed. He hadn't even seen them yet. They hadn't seen him. What if they didn't like him? 

 

 _Okay, that's really insecure, even for you, Kowalski. They're puppies. Of_ course _they're going to like you. And you're gonna love 'em. They're going to poop all over your apartment, wreck your furniture and...._

 

Ray was still grinning, and Fraser’s face was definitely defrosting – that was one big broad smile Fraser was sending his direction. "Frase?" Ray waved at him, and Fraser blinked as though he was waking up. "Puppies?"

  
“Oh, of course,” Fraser said, and stooped, pulling a wriggling pile of puppies from under his sweater. Dief ran straight up and - _shit!_ \- bit one on the throat. Oh - no. He was just lifting them down the way mother dogs did, holding them one after the other by the scruff of their necks. Once he’d got all three of them on the floor, he sprawled on his side and started licking them. They made themselves at home, tumbling over each other to nestle in his fur.

  
“Oh my God.” For a moment Ray was totally lost for words. “Oh my God. They’re the cutest things ever.” They were too – about the size of his fist, with little, squished faces and huge expressive eyes. They looked like – “Are they pugs?”

  
“Not entirely,” Fraser was stripping out of his wet clothes now, utterly unselfconscious. “They are partly chihuahua, I would imagine. Perhaps the malfeasant found no financial value in them as they are not purebred. This would explain, though not excuse, the individual throwing them in the lake.”

  
Ray blinked hard; he had no idea where to look – at Fraser, finally getting naked, or at Dief, who had rolled over onto his back and was giving out mixed signals. On the one hand, he was thumping his tail with enthusiasm rather than his earlier 'alpha hurt' anxiety. He gave every impression of being a very happy half-wolf. On the other hand, he was a happy half-wolf with what could only be called a long-suffering expression on his face. The latter was probably the fault of the puglets. They had made themselves comfortable in his fur and seemed somewhat gender confused; they were currently questing for milk bearing teats. They also appeared to be peeing on the floor.

  
“I’ll, uh – I’ll get about a thousand more towels,” Ray managed, carefully not looking at Fraser. Fraser who had just kicked off a wet pair of briefs, which meant he was stark... _don’t think about that, Kowalski. Fraser’s off limits._ “For you and the....”

  
“Chugs, Ray.”

  
“Chugs?”

  
“Chugs.”

  
They had to stop saying that. It sounded like a nursery rhyme about trains or a drinking game. Or both at the same time, which would be disturbing. “Are they always going to be this cute?”

  
“Well, cuteness is a matter of taste but –” Fraser crouched back into Ray’s field of vision, and Ray jerked his gaze away from the sight of a completely naked and still dripping Fraser practically kneeling at his feet. “Essentially, yes. They will always be this cute.”

  
“What about you?” Ray blurted out before he could stop himself. _Oh, Jesus._ His heart dropped like a stone. _I’ve just outed myself. Fraser’s gonna freak out and never talk to me again. He’s gonna move back to Canada and...._

  
Ray cringed back and risked a look, just to see how bad it was.

  
Fraser was smiling at him.

  
_Uh..._ Ray had thought about this moment a lot, the moment of Fraser discovering that his partner had the hots for him. Usually, it ended badly. This didn’t look like it was going to end badly. But even in his best fantasies Ray had never imagined a smile like that. One hell of a sunshine smile and it was directed straight at him.

  
“Frase?”

  
“Ray?” Fraser’s voice had dropped a full octave.

  
“Yeah?” Jeez. Fraser’s voice got deeper and sexier. Ray's voice went high and squeaky. Figured.

  
Fraser was still smiling at him and standing now. Ray’s mouth went dry. Despite himself, he looked at Fraser – all over.

  
Wow. If that was Fraser’s package after a dip in a frozen lake on an ice-cold day, Ray couldn’t wait to see what it would look like when Fraser was warmed up.

  
“Ray.” Fraser took a step toward him, cleared his throat. For just one moment he looked nervous. “Ray, do you find me attractive?”

  
Ray could barely speak. His voice came out on a breathless rush. “Yeah,” he croaked. “Yeah, very much so.”

  
Fraser glanced down at the wriggling mass of canine happiness (Dief had recommenced grooming his charges, looking every inch the mother) then glanced back at Ray. “Shall we leave our friends here to settle in and....” He cleared his throat. “I heard you running water. Is there any chance that we could....”

  
Ray felt his mouth twitch up. “Get warm?”

  
“Skin on skin contact helps with convection of heat and....”

  
Fraser always babbled when he was nervous.

  
“Shush,” Ray pressed a finger to Fraser’s lips, feeling impossibly fond of him. “Let me just get some puppy food from Sally next door, and you get in the bath. I feed the puglets; then I get in the bath with you. Then we go to the bedroom. Then we...” He demonstrated his intentions by threading his fingers through Fraser’s wet and unruly hair... “then we keep warm.” _Like this,_ he thought and kissed Fraser with all the gratitude and passion in him. Fraser moaned and opened his mouth. When they emerged from the kiss, they were both smiling. “So, what do you say, Fraser? Does that sound good to you?”

  
“Oh, yes.” Fraser’s eyes were shiny and his voice tender. His hand went up and traced Ray’s face. “Yes, that sounds very good indeed.”

 


End file.
